


Wilt Bozer Originals

by TheGirlWhoRemembers



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bozer's Movies, Bozer's Scripts, Crack, Crack Taken Sort-of Seriously, F/M, Family, Fanboy Bozer, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humour, Parody, Romance, Team as Family, imitation is the highest form of flattery, silliness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 13:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17426495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWhoRemembers/pseuds/TheGirlWhoRemembers
Summary: A series of Bozer’s movie ideas.Latest update: A Real Girl.Angus MacGyver. Genius. Billionaire. Philanthropist.Nota playboy. Mad scientist. And lonely, in a way his friends-who-are-family can’t help him with…at least until a freak lab accident fundamentally changes his AI and long-time companion BETH, and their relationship.





	Wilt Bozer Originals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobinP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinP/gifts).



> RobinP gave me a nudge…this plot bunny appeared. 
> 
> This is more than a little cracky, and it is silly and absurd to a ridiculous degree. Everyone is also somewhat OOC (mostly in the sense that their notable and memorable character traits are exaggerated), as that is how I see Bozer writing them, and suspension of disbelief is the name of the game! I’ve also tried to emulate Bozer’s writing style (or, at least, what I think he might use), so that’s why I don’t quite sound like myself (I hope, anyway…).

_The setting: Penthouse of Jackson Industries Tower, Valentine’s Day. **Angus ‘Mac’ MacGyver** (think Tony Stark, but late-twenties, blonde and wholesomely good-looking, plus not a playboy and not an asshole) is doing something science-y with a really complicated-looking doo-dad in the living room._

_He’s clearly mopey and lonely as he doesn’t have a date for Valentine’s Day and has a really tragic romantic history._

_NOTE TO SELF: GET MAC TO BUILD A DOO-DAD FOR FILMING._

_NOTE TO SELF 2: REMEMBER - DON’T TELL HIM WHAT IT IS FOR!! HE GETS WEIRD ABOUT YOU WRITING CHARACTERS BASED ON HIM._

* * *

‘BETH, where did I put those bocce balls I dug out of that dumpster?’

Mac spoke as he tinkered with the something in front of him, which was taking up half his living room.

(He was trying to keep his hands and brain busy, to distract him from his moping and slight jealousy.)

(All of his friends-who-were-family were in happy relationships and out celebrating Valentine’s Day. It was hard not to be a little mopey and jealous.)

(He was only human, after all.)

A female voice sounded out from his ceiling.

‘They’re in your closet, under your second-favourite pair of boots.’

Mac finally looked away from his thingamajig, making a face of confusion.

‘Why did I put them there?’

The voice in his ceiling sounded amused and fondly exasperated when it replied.

‘Honestly, Mac, I have no idea.’

* * *

_Basic Elementary Teaching Hyper-heuristic ( **BETH** ) is **Mac’s** AI. Following his father’s gift to him of two college-level books on building his own computer when he asked for one at the age of eight, he subsequently gifted the young **Mac** many college-level books on artificial intelligence, followed by seminal academic papers in the field. Of course, the young **Mac** took this as a challenge and began to create his own AI._

_When his father left him at the age of ten (on his birthday, which was a REALLY DICK MOVE), he threw himself into the project. He subconsciously recognized that things like giving him college-level books when he asked for a computer were his dad’s way of saying that he loved him, and despite the strained and often-tense relationship between the MacGyvers, young **Mac** idolized his father and desperately wanted a close relationship with him. This was a way of maintaining some kind of closeness to his absent dad. _

_Seven weeks after **Mac’s** eleventh birthday, **BETH** came online. _

_Ever since, she has been a companion and friend to him, their relationship deepening over time as her personality core independently evolved and developed._

_In some ways, **BETH** could be described as his closest friend, despite not being human, as she knows more of his secrets and what he keeps bottled up inside than anyone else (which is quite a bit, as **Mac** likes to keep his private life private and hates burdening others with his problems, despite the fact that he encourages his friends-who-are-family to share theirs with him, so that he may help – SERIOUSLY, BRO, I LOVE YOU BUT THAT IS REALLY ANNOYING). _

_(She’s an AI. Of course she does!)_

* * *

A little while and four destroyed bocce balls later, BETH made a chiming sound and spoke.

‘I’ve ordered you a large pepperoni pizza, Mac.’ She paused, her voice growing a touch wry and teasing. ‘There is also a pint of rocky-road ice-cream included with the order, so I suggest that you collect the delivery when it arrives in twenty-one minutes with all haste, particularly as the Tower is experiencing a liquid nitrogen shortage.’

He looked up from the fifth bocce ball and at the ceiling with a smile.

‘Thanks, BETH.’

She looked after him. Always had, and despite lacking a corporeal body and it being built into her core programming, along with Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics, not to inhibit free will, was very, very effective at it.

(For example, she’d kept him from cutting the cast off his arm a week early when he was thirteen. She’d also kept him in bed resting when that really nasty case of flu had swept MIT when he was seventeen, and obtained chicken soup by order service, as well as a visit by a doctor who made house-calls.)

(Some people would probably call it creepy, how involved she was in his life.)

(But frankly, BETH was no more of a busybody than his friends-who-were-family.)

(And besides, she was the nicest, sweetest AI in existence.)

‘I’ll let you know when ten minutes have passed.’ That was said very firmly. ‘That will give you time to wash your hands properly…’ They were covered in grease. ‘…and change the bandage on your arm…’ He had cut it rather badly, though not deep enough to need stitches, four days ago while working on another project. ‘…before going downstairs to pick up your dinner.’

* * *

Half an hour later, Mac was sitting on his couch, about to dig into his pepperoni pizza, with his pint of rocky-road in the freezer.

Just as he took the first bite, a classic episode of _Mythbusters,_ one of his absolute favourites (they blew up a foam shark – Mac really liked explosions, as long as no-one got hurt, of course), popped up on the TV, without him having to say a word.

He smiled, and on impulse, raised his slice of pizza to the ceiling in a toast-like gesture that he’d stolen from his friend Jack.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day, BETH.’

He swore he could hear a smile in her voice when she responded.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day, Mac.’

He was silent for a while, watching Adam and Jamie do their thing and munching on pizza, before he spoke again, indicating the ceiling.

‘ _This_ is the most stable, functional and long-lasting relationship I have with a woman.’

It was a statement full of emotions – sadness and bitterness, wry humour, fondness and affection…

(He and BETH had had a long debate as to whether she actually counted as a woman, not being human.)

(He had always referred to her as female, as her first voice, a highly-computerized one, was, as he’d borrowed programming from a GPS to create it.)

(When he was fifteen, they’d decided to upgrade her voice, and she’d picked out another, more natural-sounding female voice for herself. His friend Penny had reminded him that he should probably check in with her, to make sure that she identified as female and preferred female pronouns, and after a debate as to whether an AI could actually have a gender identity, he’d confirmed that she was, in fact, a _she._ )

(After that, they’d wound up establishing that since she was highly autonomous, had her own personality – which was not created by him, but had evolved independently – and could pass a Turing test, she was close enough for their purposes, and BETH had stopped correcting him when he referred to her as a woman.)

(She seemed to have picked up some of his pedantic-ness.)

Her voice was rather sad and sympathetic when she replied.

‘I really hope that changes soon.’

He just gave a sad little smile and sighed, nodding.

‘Me too, BETH. Me too.’

It’d been a long, long time since he’d had a long-term girlfriend.

(And the last – and only fully-developed, long-term adult relationship he’d had, actually – had cheated on him and lied to him about it for months, too.)

(Mac had always, always wanted to find the right one. He approached dating as a search for the right one, and never, ever took advantage of the fact that he was young, outrageously wealthy and unreasonably handsome to get some temporary company from a movie star or a Victoria’s Secret angel or the like. Despite offers.)

(In fact, he mostly followed his grandfather’s rules for gentlemen courting ladies, which were pretty old-fashioned. That was saying a lot, as Mac was terrible with rules.)

(Zoe, a glaciology PhD student he’d met online while debating the age of an Arctic ice core a year and a couple of months ago might have been the right one, if not for her tragic, untimely heroic death.)

(Nasha might have been too, if not for the insurmountable barriers to a relationship between an American billionaire and a Nigerian schoolteacher from a small, isolated and rather impoverished village, neither of whom could or would give up their lives for the other, no matter their mutual attraction and feelings.)

(He’d had to say goodbye to her and her village seven months ago. Even with his desire to start a new life away from everything – long story, it involved drama with his dad and their reunion not going so well – it simply wasn’t possible, and he was putting them in too much danger by staying.)

(He was worth a _lot_ to would-be kidnappers.)

He finished his sixth slice of pizza (his metabolism ran _really_ fast…to the jealousy of his BFF), and put the last two in the fridge for later, then reached into his freezer to grab the pint of ice-cream.

He looked up at the ceiling as he settled on the couch again.

‘At least I’ve got you.’

That was said with heartfelt affection. The response he got back was affectionate too, even though the speaker didn’t have a heart.

‘You always will, Mac.’

* * *

_The setting: **Mac’s** bedroom, the middle of the night in August during a freak thunderstorm. Horror-movie-style thunder and lightning are sounding and flashing through the windows. Think Frankenstein!_

* * *

A loud thunderclap woke Mac, and he opened his eyes blearily to see a strike of lightning, followed by another clap of thunder.

He glanced at his alarm clock, to find that it was simply flashing 12:00 over and over again.

Obviously, the power had shorted out at some point.

(His alarm clock wasn’t on the backup generator, as it wasn’t sufficiently important to warrant it.)

He sat up, much more alert, full of concern about the experiment he had running down in his lab.

(He was working on a device in conjunction with JI Biomedical that would build organs from tissue samples, eliminating the need for donor organs and potentially saving or improving thousands and thousands of lives.)

(At the moment, they were still working out the many, many kinks. The device had been programmed to grow a kidney overnight from a tissue sample donated from a fourteen-year-old girl who’d died in a car accident.)

(If it succeeded this time, it’d be the first successful organ grown by the device.)

He jumped out of bed and grabbed his shoes, talking as he did so.

‘BETH, how are the readings from my lab looking? Do we have a problem?’

There was no response.

BETH was on the back-up generator, of course.

Thus, there were only two reasons why she wouldn’t respond.

A, something had happened to her servers. That was highly unlikely, since she was in eight different redundant sets of servers all over the world.

B, something had gone so, so wrong that she was so busy she didn’t have the processing power to talk to him.

Feeling far more panicked and anxious than he probably should have, Mac ran for the elevators.

* * *

_The setting: **Mac’s** lab. It is dark, with emergency lights on. All the lightbulbs in the ceiling and on his various machines and inventions and projects have blown out. A corner is very wet as the sprinklers have activated, and there are burned papers all over the wet desk. The stuff on the papers is gibberish to all normal people. Thunder continues to sound and lightning flashes regularly through the windows._

_The floor is covered in broken glass and a pool of saline solution._

_Standing in front of a broken glass tank attached to a computer is a completely naked woman, a petite, brown-eyed brunette. She is very pretty and looks to be in her early-mid-twenties, and is looking at her arms in astonishment, confusion, fascination, curiosity and a touch of horror._

* * *

Mac stared at the woman standing in his lab, in the middle of the saline-and-glass pool, staring at her own limbs.

His brain was racing at 100 mph as he tried to find some kind of rational, reasonable explanation for her presence, and failed. _Epically._

After what felt like an eternity, but had to be no more than seconds, she looked up at him, eyes wide.

‘Mac?’

He knew that voice.

He knew that voice very, very well.

He’d been asked his opinion on the selection of that voice, years ago.

‘ _BETH_?’

* * *

_The setting: **Mac’s** living room, just after dawn. He is explaining the situation to his friends-who-are-family: **Jack Dalton** , one of his two best friends, his surrogate father and all-round Obi-Wan Kenobi to his Luke Skywalker (they met in Afghanistan while in the Army and initially hated each other, but developed a legendary bromance after saving each other’s lives several times and developing mutual respect – you know, that old story), **Riley Davis** , JI white-hat extraordinaire who’d come to her position in an unusual way, via super-max, who just so happens to be the daughter of Jack’s then-ex-girlfriend-now-again-girlfriend and the closest thing he’d ever had to a daughter, **Wilt Bozer** , his childhood BFF, talented cook and hottest new filmmaker in Hollywood, **Jill Morgan** , also a JI white-hat extraordinaire, recruited straight out of college and formerly shy, emphasis on formerly, and **Matilda ‘Matty’  Webber** , CEO of JI, also known as Matty the Hun behind her back._

_They are all extremely shocked. **Mac** is still trying to come up with a rational explanation for this situation. He has his super-distinctive thinking-face on. _

**_BETH_ ** _is sitting next to him, wearing a pair of his pyjama pants with the ends pinned up with paperclips so that she doesn’t trip over them, an old MIT T-shirt of his, and a soft flannel shirt. She is holding her left arm in her right and looks awkward, shy and scared, though she is trying fiercely not to show the latter._

_Everyone is still clearly trying to process this plot twist._

* * *

‘So, let me get this straight, Baby Frankenstein.’ Matty put her hands on her hips as she addressed Mac, who winced a little internally. ‘Somehow, your organ-growing device’s malfunction, lightning, and BETH’s attempt to fix the malfunction combined in a perfect storm to transfer her consciousness into a body grown from your test tissue sample?’

He and BETH had managed to work out at least part of what had happened, even though neither of them understood it, despite their best efforts.

(It appeared that although she was no longer an AI whose knowledge comprised the entire Internet and had computation power equal to a supercomputer, and was now biologically limited by her now-human brain, she was still really, really clever, keeping up with him with no issue, and had retained an impressively large amount of knowledge and memories.)

The organ-growing device had malfunctioned in a way that wasn’t entirely unexpected or inexplicable. BETH had attempted to fix it herself, not wanting to wake him as he had had only five hours sleep in the last two days, because he’d been so caught up in this project. There had been a particularly severe lightning strike while she was in the middle of it, and that had somehow triggered the organ-growing device to grow her a body using the DNA from the tissue sample and the transfer of her consciousness.

(She no longer existed on her servers, and bore an uncanny resemblance to the deceased tissue donor, all grown up.)

Mac just nodded, as did BETH, who rubbed her arm in a way that seemed nervous, even frightened.

He reached out and put a hand on hers in comfort and as a reminder, absent-mindedly starting to trace the digits of pi on the back of her hand.

* * *

_FLASHBACK_

_The setting: **Mac’s** lab, an hour ago. **Mac** , still wearing his PJs, and **BETH** , now wearing his lab coat, are standing in front of a computer, having just sent out an urgent text message for an urgent meeting. _

* * *

‘…they’ll be here soon, we should get you some clothes…’ Mac trailed off as he glanced at BETH, who looked nervous and scared. It tugged at his heartstrings, and he reached out automatically, offering her his hand. After a moment of hesitation, her movements still a little unsure and unsteady (she was getting used to having a body admirably quickly, but it had to be an unimaginable shock to the system), she reached out and took it. He squeezed her hand gently, looking her in the eyes, understanding her fears. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you, kill you or turn you into a lab rat.’ Acting on an impulse he didn’t quite understand and didn’t have time or the desire to process or think about properly, he tucked two fingers under her chin, tilting her face up a little. ‘I promise.’

He put a lot of weight _(everything he had!)_ into those words.

She blinked, then smiled up at him, sweet and a little shy and full of trust.

It made him feel pleasantly, comfortably warm inside, like Bozer’s amazing, incredible, world’s-best, super-secret-recipe hot chocolate and equally-incredible gourmet s’mores on a cold day by the fire-pit.

‘Thank you, Mac.’ Then, apparently to both of their surprises, she reached out and hugged him, more than a little awkwardly, though it felt very heartfelt and genuine. He hugged her back gently, and when she pulled back, she looked up at him, her smile even wider. ‘Oxytocin _is_ as good as they say it is.’ Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed in a way that was honestly very adorable. ‘I did _not_ intend to say that out-loud…’

* * *

_The setting: **Mac’s** dining room, several days after **BETH’s** transformation. She and Jack are sitting at the table, with a feast of foods in front of them, including crispy, perfectly-cooked bacon, Bozer’s legendary mac’n’cheese, a side of perfect pastrami, and his delicious duck l’orange. **Bozer, Mac** and **Jill** are in the kitchen, the latter two having been roped into being the master chef’s assistants. **Riley** and **Matty** are finalizing the identity – completely, 100% perfectly backstopped and secure – they’d created for **BETH**._

* * *

Jack, with a smile on his face that he couldn’t quite help (Jack Wyatt Dalton, despite being a deadly ex-Delta, ex-CIA operative, was really a big soft teddy bear on the inside), offered Beth (with only the first letter of her name capitalized now) some bacon.

‘This here’s the real good stuff, kiddo.’

She smiled, fond and amused, recalling his well-documented fondness for bacon, and possibly Diane’s charging of her to monitor Jack’s bacon intake (which he hoped she couldn’t do anymore, now that she wasn’t an all-seeing, all-knowing, all-recalling AI), and snagged a piece with her fork.

(They were all giving her how-to-be-human lessons. Bozer had taken it upon himself to introduce her to the wide, wonderful world of food.)

(In Jack’s opinion, they were all reaping the rewards.)

She took a bite, and her eyes lit up. She made a happy little noise in her throat, and chewed and swallowed, smile widening as she looked at Jack.

‘I think I understand what all the fuss is about now!’

Her excitement and happiness was adorable and contagious.

Jack’s smile widened, as he helped himself to more bacon.

‘You know, you’re a lot less scary now that you’re human, and I know you _can’t_ pull a Skynet or an Ultron on us...’ He paused, brow furrowing, then looked back at her and pointed at her with a finger. ‘You really can’t now, can you?’

Beth shook her head, unoffended, the gesture full of fond exasperation.

She had been as sure as she could be when she was an AI (and reliably assured by Mac) that Jack had been fond of her just like her other human friends, despite the whole paranoia-about-AIs-and-robots thing he had going on.

(Mac said that she belonged to the same category as Arnie’s Terminator, reserved for AIs he trusted.)

‘No, I can’t. I never _could_ , Jack. Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics were a central, integral part of my programming…’

* * *

_FLASHBACK_

_The setting: Foyer, JI Tower, seven years ago. **Mac** and **Jack** walk in, newly returned from Afghanistan. **Jack** is still recovering from the shock that his little dorky weird bomb nerd is the 18th richest man in the USA. _

_He is about to get a bigger shock._

_*DUN, DUN, DUN*_

_NOTE TO SELF: DRAMATIC MUSIC HERE? A WITTY AND WRY NARRATION BY MAC? OR KEEP IT SIMPLE?_

* * *

‘Welcome home, Mac!’

A female voice sounded out, and Jack looked surprised, before whirling around to point at his partner.

‘Mac, brother, you know I love you, but have you seriously been holding out on me even more? I thought we were _brothers_ , man!’ Mac rolled his eyes. Jack was clearly never going to let it go that he’d neglected to tell him that he was the heir and now the owner of JI. ‘You got a _girl_?’

Mac looked sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck.

This was rather tricky to explain.

‘Uh, no.’ He gestured at the ceiling. ‘Jack, meet BETH, my AI. BETH, this is Jack Dalton.’

BETH responded, her voice friendly and warm.

‘It’s very nice to meet you, Jack. Thank you very much for watching Mac’s back.’

Her voice sounded heartfelt, somehow.

Jack, however, paled, and started to shake his head.

‘Oh, no, son, this ain’t good, this ain’t good at all…’ He gestured to the ceiling. ‘You got a kill switch for it? You know, in case it goes all Skynet or Ultron on us?’

Mac actually looked offended, though he tried to reel it in, for Jack’s sake.

(It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t understand the relationship he had with BETH, after all.)

Though, he spoke very firmly. Insistently.

‘A, BETH is a _she_ , not an it. B, due to Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics, which are an inherent part of her personality core and programming, she _can’t_ go Ultron or Skynet on us. And C, she is my _friend,_ and has been since I was eleven years old.’

Jack blinked in shock, and shook his head again, even more this time.

‘Oh, this is really, really not good…’ Mac shot him a _look._ Jack crossed his arms stubbornly. ‘Just trying to keep your scrawny butt in one piece, Mac!’

The blonde sighed, and gestured at the ceiling.

‘Which is a goal that you and BETH share.’ He smiled wryly and sheepishly. ‘If not for her, I would, for example, have electrocuted myself at least twenty-nine times.’

The female voice in the ceiling spoke again, her tone also wry and exasperated in an affectionate way.

‘And debatably, _may_ have electrocuted yourself at least another twelve times.’ She paused. ‘And on that note, Mac, you’d better not be thinking about using your kiddie-pool-vacuum-cleaner hot-tub without both of us thoroughly inspecting the electrical first, or you will face my wrath.’ If she had eyes, she’d be narrowing them at him. ‘My wrath is terrifying!’

At that, Jack just raised his hands, as if to say, _see?_

Mac rolled his eyes again, and addressed the ceiling.

‘Just ignore him, BETH. Jack’s beliefs about AIs are firmly rooted in science _fiction_ , not science fact.’

She replied, her voice rather amused.

A voice in Jack’s head pointed out to him that maybe this was a _nice_ AI, like Arnie. She sounded like she was already fond of him, simply because she was fond of Mac and he was Mac’s friend.

(She definitely sounded like she was fond of Mac.)

‘Duly noted.’

Mac smiled, and gestured to Jack, leading him to the elevator bank, his smile growing wry.

‘If I tell you what BETH did to me when I last incurred her wrath over beer and steak, will _that_ help you warm up to her?’

Jack smirked, rubbing his hands together.

‘Well, it can’t hurt, brother.’

* * *

_The setting: A shopping mall, about a week and a half after **Beth’s** transformation. **Bozer, Riley** and **Jill** are taking her shopping, using **Mac’s** limitless credit card._

_NOTE TO SELF: CHECK THAT LIMITLESS CREDIT CARDS ARE ACTUALLY A THING OUTSIDE OF MOVIES._

* * *

Beth grinned rather sheepishly as they browsed the ‘sleepwear’ section of Target and she picked out a pair of pyjama pants that were mint-green with little white polka dots on them to join the other pairs of flannel pants she’d chosen, and then a navy-blue robe also decorated with white polka dots.

(She didn’t need any shirts for sleeping in, having already ordered a number of science joke T-shirts for that purpose off the Internet.)

(Her fondness for science jokes – including really bad ones with some pretty awful puns – had carried over from her previous life.)

She turned to Jill, who was holding the basket for her, and Riley, who was in charge of Mac’s credit card, and Bozer, who was holding the bags (currently containing jeans, striped long sleeved T-shirts and Henleys), the sheepish grin widening as she put the robe in the basket.

‘I think I really like polka dots.’

Jill smiled and nodded in agreement.

‘They really suit you!’

Riley, meanwhile, smiled too, crossing her arms casually.

(She preferred an edgier look.)

‘Everybody’s got their look. You just gotta rock it.’

Meanwhile, Bozer grinned and rubbed his hands together, before putting an arm around Beth’s shoulders and steering her towards the check-outs.

‘Oh, I know just the place we’re hitting up next…’

* * *

It turned out that Beth also really liked 50s-inspired clothing, whether it had polka dots or not.

(Bozer reckoned that even though they’d racked up a pretty big credit card bill for his BFF, Mac couldn’t possibly object.)

(He was super-rich and really generous with his money, after all. Especially to his friends-who-were-family, and Beth had been family to him for seventeen years, and even more so when they were in need.)

(She needed a wardrobe. She couldn’t go around wearing Mac’s T-shirts, flannels, pyjama pants and basketball shorts and Riley’s tank-tops and Henleys for the rest of her life.)

(Besides – he was a happily attached man, but still – she looked really pretty and so adorable in her new wardrobe, particularly that milkshake skirt, so there was just no way his BFF could complain.)

(Bozer was totally convinced that there was something there.)

(He had an eye for this sort of thing. A really good eye for chemistry.)

(In fact, he’d been half-convinced that there was something there when she was just a voice in the ceiling…yeah, he knew that was really creepy and really weird…but true love was _true love_!)

* * *

_The setting: **Mac’s** lab, a few weeks after **Beth’s** transformation. **Mac** and **Beth** have an ICU ventilator, lots of spare parts and a whiteboard covered in scribbles that no-one else understands in front of them. **Mac** is fiddling around with something at the bottom of the ventilator, while **Beth** is writing on the whiteboard._

* * *

‘…That should resolve the short-circuiting issue…’

Mac jumped up from where he’d been lying on his stomach on the floor, Swiss Army knife in hand, as he made some changes to the bottom of the ventilator.

(He and Beth were working on making cheaper, better and more mobile ICU ventilators.)

(Beth had an inexplicable interest in medicine, always had, even as an AI, seeming to particularly enjoy and be interested in his biomedical projects. She’d also put more processing power – that is, effort – into arranging donations to MSF and related NGOs, even then.)

At that moment, his stomach growled loudly, and Beth turned around, capping her marker and putting her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at him.

‘Mac, when was the last time you ate?’

(She had to ask now, since she wasn’t an all-seeing AI anymore and all.)

He looked sheepish.

‘Uh…this morning?’

It was now late afternoon.

Beth jabbed at the air in front of his chest with a finger.

‘You know that’s not good for you!’ She put down her marker, and looked at him with something very fierce and determined in her eyes and the tilt of her chin, something that told him that he really should do as she told him to. ‘We’re getting you some food, _stat._ ’

* * *

_The setting: **Mac’s** dining room, **Beth’s** first Thanksgiving (as a human). The remnants of a delicious, mouth-watering savoury section of a feast prepared by **Bozer** are sitting on the coffee table and the kitchen counter, while the sweet section, just as delicious, of course, sits on the dining table. **Mac, Jack, Diane Davis** (Jack’s girlfriend, Riley’s mom) **, Bozer, Leanna Martin** (Bozer’s girlfriend, who is super-hot, really awesome and totally badass) **, Riley, Billy Colton** (Riley’s boyfriend, a bounty hunter from Louisiana whose Mama raised him right and makes great pie) **, Jill, Matty, Ethan Reigns** (Matty’s husband who is really badass but really loves disco?!?)_ _and **Beth** are all sitting around the dining table eating dessert._

* * *

With a touch of hesitation, Beth took a spoonful of the slice of pumpkin pie that Bozer had placed in front of her and dolloped generously with whipped cream, and put it in her mouth.

(She liked almost all of the food she’d tried so far – which was a lot, as Bozer had made it his personal mission to ensure she got a real introduction to the amazing world of food - and pumpkin pie was one of those foodstuffs that even as an AI, she’d known was close-to-objectively considered delicious, but it was a dessert made of from what was commonly considered a vegetable…)

Her entire face lit up as the flavour hit her taste buds, and grinning like a child on Christmas morning, she took another bite, chewed and swallowed, before realization crossed her face and she spoke, addressing Mac and Bozer.

‘Pumpkin pie is _amazing,_ so why isn’t it considered a socially-acceptable foodstuff all year round?’

A realization of sorts hit Bozer too, and he pointed at the former-AI.

‘That’s a really good question…’

Mac just chuckled, and shrugged, something equal parts fond and teasing in his eyes.

‘Honestly, Beth, I don’t know.’

* * *

_The setting: **Mac’s** penthouse balcony, 4 am, early December. It is the second anniversary of Zoe’s death. **Mac** is wearing pyjamas and staring at the view of LA with a serious thousand-yard-stare going on._

* * *

There was a soft knock on the doorframe leading out onto his deck, then a gentle, familiar voice sounded out.

‘Mac?’

He turned around, to see Beth standing there, also in her pyjamas, feet bare, a robe wrapped around her, surprise clear on his face.

(She didn’t have sensors all over the building anymore.)

(How had she known that he was awake and here?)

She shrugged sheepishly, a little awkwardly.

‘On…on certain dates, there is an 85% chance that you are up by this hour, and if you are, there is a 65% chance that you are here.’ She shrugged again. ‘I was going to check your lab next.’

(She had, for reasons unknown, retained a disproportionately large amount of information and memories relating to him and his habits and preferences.)

Beth was also holding his favourite leather jacket, which had been hanging on the fork coat hooks next to the polar bear by his front door, and held it out insistently to him when she finished speaking. With a small, wan smile that was nonetheless affectionate, he took it and shrugged it on, before returning to staring out at the view, but not really seeing it.

After a moment of silence and hesitation, she came over to the railing and stood there beside him, looking out over the view too.

They stood there in comfortable, companionable silence for a long time. At some point, she wordlessly passed him a couple of paperclips, which soon became ice-cream cones in his hands.

Eventually, he turned his head to glance at her, and noticed the expression on her face.

She looked sad too.

And not just in the sympathetic way, in the way that was ‘I’m hurting because you are’, in the way that meant you really felt it, too.

Immediately, he kicked himself for not realizing that that’d be the case.

Alone of all of his friends, Beth had actually ‘met’ Zoe, at least in the way that he and Zoe had met.

The glaciologist and the AI had gotten along like a house on fire, had been friends, and had occasionally ganged up on him to boot.

He found his voice, and passed her one of the ice-cream cone paperclips.

‘You miss her too?’

Beth just nodded, staring down at the ice-cream cone paperclip for a beat, before looking up at him, with an awkward little movement of her head, almost like a head-shake.

‘Not as much as you do, of course, I mean, I’m…I was just an AI, but…’ She looked down at the re-shaped paperclip again. ‘I’d never had a female best friend before.’

(It made a difference, even if gender roles and stereotypes were kind of thrown out the door when you were an AI, one that she hadn’t quite understood until Mac had met Zoe, and consequently, she had met Zoe.)

On impulse, Mac just reached out and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. Beth leaned her head against his chest for a moment, before she lifted it, and looked very sheepish, even truly apologetic and a touch ashamed.

‘I’m sorry, I really should be the one comforting you, I mean, you and Zoe were…’

She trailed off. They’d never really defined their relationship, and she didn’t know what term to use.

Mac just smiled, a small smile, but very heartfelt none the same, and squeezed her shoulders gently.

‘You are, just by being here.’ He paused. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with mutual comforting.’

* * *

_The setting: The Happiest Place on Earth (Disneyland, just to be clear, people!), January, outside/on the edge of a souvenir shop. **Mac** is paying for a pair of mouse ears, while **Jill** and **Beth** eat Mickey Mouse ice-creams and giggle about something. In the background, **Bozer** and **Leanna** are browsing souvenirs, **Jack** is trying to steal **Riley’s** cotton candy, **Riley** keeps slapping his hand away, and **Diane** is looking on with fond exasperation._

* * *

Mac nodded in thanks to the vendor, and took the mouse ears, walking over to where Beth and Jill were putting their ice-cream sticks in the trash.

He held the mouse ears out to the brunette woman, a little grin on his face.

‘Apparently, you can’t come to Disneyland for the first time and leave without mouse ears.’

(Bozer had drilled that into him insistently.)

Beth grinned back at him, and took the headband from his hands, putting it on carefully so as not to mess up the twin braids on either side of her head.

‘Thanks, Mac.’

His smile widened. She was really, really, really adorable.

‘You’re welcome.’

She grinned wider too, and hesitated for just a second before speaking again, sounding young and happy and hopeful and eager.

‘Can we go ride Space Mountain again?’

Yeah.

Really, really, really, _really_ adorable.

At that moment, Billy returned with another stick of cotton candy, which he handed to Riley, shooting Jack a _look_ that skips feared at the same time.

Jack shot the bounty hunter a _look_ back that had scared many a prisoner in interrogation when he was CIA.

Beth watched, along with everyone else, then turned to Mac, her voice half-wry, half-serious.

‘Can we go ride Space Mountain again, after we buy Jack a hotdog?’

Mac laughed, but nodded seriously.

‘I think it’s going to have to be two hotdogs.’

* * *

_The setting: **Beth’s** apartment, the bathroom, March. **Mac** is sitting on a stool, without a shirt on, while **Beth** skilfully cleans and bandages a cut on the back of his left shoulder. There is a very large and neatly packed first-aid kit on the vanity next to her, and she looks fondly exasperated._

* * *

‘…Late-night television is dangerous, apparently.’

Mac had watched one too many infomercials, and gotten inspired. His Roomba-style automatic lawnmower had cut him in a really awkward area when he was pressing the top into place after attaching the blades.

He had thus (despite being a terrible patient) taken himself over to Beth’s so she could patch him up.

Her wrath had not been softened by becoming human, and he really, really wanted to stay on her good side.

The former AI shook her head, in a very exasperated and affectionate and long-suffering manner.

‘You know, Mac, I think this incident, along with _eleven_ others, demonstrates that what I retained when I was transferred was _not_ random.’ She had retained a very large amount of first-aid information and knowledge. ‘It appears that I somehow retained the most useful and important information…’

* * *

_The setting: **Mac’s** penthouse balcony, early May. **Mac** and **Jack** are sitting by the fire-pit, drinking beer and bantering in that legendary way of theirs._

* * *

‘…Speaking of which, brother, why haven’t you made a move on Lil’ Miss Pinocchio?’

It was obvious to _everyone._ It had been for _ages_ and had reached _we-need-to-do-an-intervention-stat._

Mac rolled his eyes.

‘That was a _terrible_ segue, Jack.’

He pointedly ignored the rest of Jack’s words, at least until the older man just kept looking at him expectantly, crossing his arms stubbornly, like he’d refuse to move until Mac addressed the elephant in the room.

(Metaphorically.)

(That had to be specified, with Mac.)

(He might have decided to take up animal conservation or something, and cloned an elephant or whatnot.)

Eventually, the blonde sighed.

‘Technically, Beth is seventeen years old.’ Some secretive, in-house testing had put her biological age at around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, which was what was on her documents. ‘She’s been human for less than a year.’ He paused, and looked very seriously at Jack. ‘And I ultimately created her.’

Talk about an ethical minefield.

Jack nodded silently, just as seriously, before speaking.

‘She doesn’t act like she’s seventeen.’ Beth had her childish moments, just like they all did. But in all honesty, at least to strangers, she acted more maturely than Jack. ‘And didn’t you tell me when she was still an AI that she had, what, an independently emoting personality cortex, so you didn’t actually write her personality?’

‘Independently evolving personality core.’

That was said automatically by Mac, and Jack continued, leaning forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, looking into the younger man’s eyes.

‘You never wrote something into her so that she’d fall in love with you.’ Mac just nodded silently, and Jack continued. ‘She’s human _now._ And we humans connect with each other, develop feelings…’ Jack shrugged. ‘What’s wrong with that, son?’

Mac was silent, considering Jack’s words.

After a long, long moment, when the older man sensed that they had really, really sunk in, he grinned, and picked up his beer again, voice teasing.

‘Yeah, it’s real weird, brother, but since when have you done anything the normal way?’

* * *

_The setting: **Beth’s** apartment, the kitchen, at the same time. (It’s gonna become an epic scene-switching montage-y thing in editing!) **Beth** is cutting slices of a home-made pumpkin pie, while **Riley** and **Jill** are pouring drinks for girls’ night._

* * *

‘You don’t just like him because he, uh, well, created you, right?’

Riley shot Jill a _look._ The blonde woman looked apologetic; they’d planned to wait until later, but it had just slipped out…

However, Riley continued anyway, addressing Beth very seriously, though as gently as she ever was, too.

‘Or because you think he wants you to like him?’

Beth’s cheeks flushed, but she shook her head, and sat down at a bar stool, putting down the knife she was cutting pie with.

She was silent for a moment, trying to work out how to articulate her thoughts and feelings.

‘Mac created me when he was eleven as a consequence of his, well, _very complicated_ feelings about his father.’ That got wry, knowing smiles from Jill and Riley, which Beth returned for a moment. ‘When he did, he had no idea that I’d be online for seventeen years, let alone that we’d become friends. I became human entirely by accident.’ Her expression grew wry. ‘Trust me, I think he was even more shocked than I was, which is really, really saying something.’ She paused, growing serious again. ‘I can’t disconnect how I feel from…from our history.’ She shrugged. ‘But if you know someone for seventeen years…’ She trailed off. Jill and Riley nodded in understanding. You couldn’t just forget about seventeen years of friendship and sharing secrets and history, and the implications that had for a relationship, even if you’d been an AI for that time. ‘I have free will.’ That was said very firmly, with something fierce in her eyes, as if she was telling Jill and Riley to respect her decision, because it was truly _hers._ Both women nodded in response, just as firmly and surely. Beth’s expression grew wry. ‘Don’t tell Jack, but I think I’ve always had free will.’ Jill looked confused, Riley thoughtful, as Beth continued with a half-shrug. ‘Everyone has a moral code that influences their decision-making. Asimov’s Three Laws were mine.’

Riley passed Beth a drink with a wry smile and a snort, while Jill grabbed the ice-cream from the freezer.

(It seemed like an ice-cream sort of night, all of a sudden.)

The dark-haired hacker raised her glass in a toast of sorts, looking pointedly at Beth.

‘Don’t wait too long to make your move.’

Jill leaned conspiratorially over to the brunette, scooping ice-cream onto her slice of pie.

‘Or Jack and Bozer are going to lock you in the walk-in safe together.’

* * *

_The setting: **Mac’s** penthouse balcony, late May, **Beth’s** birthday, late at night, after the party. The skyline of LA is particularly beautiful tonight. They are both dressed up – **Mac** has swapped his usual khakis for slacks on the advice of his very stylish BFF, while **Beth** is wearing a very flattering wine-red dress. **Beth** is staring at the view. **Mac** is staring at her._

_There is romance in the air. All the romance!!!_

_NOTE TO SELF: FIND ROMANTIC BACKING MUSIC TO PLAY IN THE BACKGROUND. IS IT TOO MUCH TO HAVE FLOWERS EVERYWHERE? WOULD THAT BE OOC? OR JUST OTT?_

_NOTE TO SELF 2: COME UP WITH A SCIENCE-Y REASON FOR MAC TO PUT FLOWERS EVERYWHERE. THINK, BOZE, THINK! AMBIENCE IS VITAL!!!!_

* * *

Mac pulled out the slim, nearly-flat box he had stowed in his pocket, carefully wrapped in polka-dot wrapping paper, and passed it to Beth, who shook her head at him with fond exasperation.

‘You already got me a present, Mac.’

He had. It’d been presented to her and opened at her birthday party, but this one was more…private.

(Not in an inappropriate way! This is Mac we’re talking about!)

He just shrugged with a casualness he did not feel as she worked her thumbnail under the sticky tape to open the gift carefully.

‘I owe you seventeen years’ worth; thought I might as well get started.’

Beth shook her head again, stopping her present-wrapping temporarily to poke him in the bicep.

‘You and Bozer made me a cake and a way for me to blow out the candles every year.’ Bozer had insisted, when Mac was twelve and he was fourteen, on making BETH a cake for her first birthday. Mac had been roped into making something that would let the AI blow out the candle, and it’d somehow become a tradition for the three of them. Every year, Bozer baked a cake, and every year, Mac put together some kind of candle-extinguishing device that could be operated by an AI. ‘And I’m not keeping score.’ She finished unwrapping, and opened the velvet-covered box inside, to reveal a necklace consisting of a silver rectangle etched to look like a stylized motherboard and a heart that looked like it was made from a paperclip hanging from a simple chain. ‘Oh…’ She smiled, soft and wide and deeply touched. ‘Mac, this is beautiful!’ She snapped the box closed, and flung her arms around him. He smiled too, and hugged her back, tucking his chin over her shoulder. When they pulled away, Beth held up the box, cheeks pink. ‘Can you help me put it on?’

Her hair was already up in an intricate braided crown, so it was very easy for him to slip the necklace around her neck and do up the clasp.

(It was, however, not quite so easy to resist the urge to press a kiss to her shoulder or the nape of her neck when he was done, just like it took some strength of will to resist the desire to disassemble her intricate hairstyle, partly so he could have his hands in her hair, and partly so he could work out how it was put together.)

With the necklace secured, Mac stepped to the right again, leaning against the railing beside her once more. He was silent for a moment before speaking, voice soft.

‘Are you really happy being human, Beth?’ He paused, the note of guilt in his voice growing stronger. ‘Do you ever wish you were still an AI?’

He had never asked her that. He’d never even considered trying to change her back.

She’d never chosen or asked to be made human, after all.

Beth smiled, soft and affectionate, and straightened up and turned. He did the same automatically, and they stood there, facing other another, making eye contact.

‘I am very happy as a human, and I wouldn’t go back, even if I never chose it or even _imagined_ it.’ She paused, her cheeks pinking, looking away from him for a beat. ‘I…well, everything is different, now that I have senses instead of sensors, and hormones.’ She looked back up at him. ‘It’s a very, very good different, even if it’s more complicated and confusing. It’s stronger, more intense…’ The flush darkened. ‘I mean, I was very fond of you when I was an AI, but now, it’s just…much, much more.’

And with that, shy and hesitant in a way that reflected inexperience more than anything else, she went up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, very close to the corner of his mouth.

She pulled away faster than he would have liked (no matter how long, it’d have been too short), smiling in a way that was somehow sweet and shy and seductive, all at once.

Mac smiled too, and without speaking, tucked two fingers under her chin to tilt her face up, just like he’d had that dark and stormy night, and leaned down to kiss her properly.

When they broke apart just a few inches, (as oxygen was a necessity), Beth looked up at him, her cheeks still pink, still smiling.

‘I love you.’

That was said with great certainty, almost a fierce certainty. Like she was telling him to not doubt that she knew what it meant, because she was absolutely sure.

Mac’s smile widened into a grin, and he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, before pulling away and resting his forehead against hers.

‘I love you too.’

**Author's Note:**

> Silly and cracky, right? I hope you guys enjoyed it! 
> 
> You know, this was an awful lot of fun to write, so I’ve decided to leave this open as a potential one-shot series, for when inspiration strikes. I have some ideas permeating in my brain right now ( _The First Wives’ Club_ anyone? Or Bozer’s documentary of Mac and Beth’s wedding in the _Give Your Heart a Chance_ universe?), but nothing written yet. You’re welcome to give me any ideas you’ve got running around your brains; that might get something going in mine!


End file.
